Always Keep Her Safe
by Cosima-wants-the-D-elphine
Summary: Based on a Tumblr post about the supposedly deceased Beth Childs, Alison Hendrix, and a certain CIA agent by the name of Sarah Stubbs.
1. Get a God Damn Rent-a-Cop!

_"I'm sorry, _what_?" the annoyed brunette asked through clenched teeth. Perhaps she hadn't heard the lieutenant correctly. That had to be it. No way would he assign her to something so stupid._

_"Childs, are you suddenly hard of hearing?" he responded coolly. "I said you're working the city's crafts fair. As security."_

_"Why don't you get one of those god damn rent-a-cops? I'm sure they'd love to cover it. Much more than I would," she suggested frustratedly._

_"Because nobody wants to work on a weekend."_

_Beth's eyebrows went up as he proved her point and he shook his head._

_"I'm just askin' ya why you'd do that to me. I just got reinstated... I gotta lotta shit to do. Last thing I wanna do is be a suburban security guard."_

_"You just got reinstated, that's right. Therefore you should take it easy."_

_"That doesn't even make sense—"_

_"Look. You were shaken up. I get it. Not everybody is the target of some psychotic serial killer on the loose—"_

_"And you think sticking me amongst a bunch of women who do yoga is gonna protect me?"_

_"Childs—"_

_"Try one of the uniforms. I'm sure one of them would—"_

_"Childs!" he snapped, cutting her off. "You're working the crafts and vendors fair. End of discussion."_

_Before the brunette could even answer, the man walked away and left her by her cubicle._

_"Tough shit..." Detective DeAngelis murmured sympathetically as she walked by. Beth ran a hand through her own hair and sighed, nodding at the woman._

_"Keep me in the loop, would ya?" Beth called after her. The woman nodded as she continued on her way._


	2. Just Give Me Some Time

_"You're going to stand by this door—" the blonde woman began._

_"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I know how a security job works," Beth replied quickly, leaning an elbow on her gun. "Thanks."_

_"—and patrol this hallway. After you pace this twice, you're to go down the next one at the end of this one. That's on your right, ma'am," the blue-eyed woman specified with a smile so sugary sweet it made Beth cringe._

_"Detective," Beth muttered, putting her hands on her hips and looking down the hallway at the pinks, purples, and other pastels exploding this way and that._

_"Basically go down the whole block."_

_"Great. I love blocks," Beth responded sarcastically. She knew she was being a bitch, but she couldn't help it. She'd thought the lieutenant was joking. And once she'd figured out he wasn't, she thought he'd replace her for this post and choose someone else. But he hadn't and the day had come._

_"Great!" the woman replied, oblivious to the detective's contempt. "I guess I'll see you around."_

_Just as she turned to leave, Beth grabbed her by the arm, gave her a matching sugary sweet smile and said, "I never got your name, ma'am."_

_"Aynsley. Aynsley Norris."_

Well, Aysnley Norris, I'd love to strangle you_, Beth thought bitterly as she forced another insincere smile._

_The blonde nodded before pulling away and walking down the hall to her own table and began to set her display up. The detective rolled her eyes as she turned and faced the door._

_"This blows," she grumbled to herself as she saw a petite brunette woman pass by in her peripheral vision. She looked up at the ceiling before studying the floor. A few minutes later, she saw the same woman pass by her again and she looked straight at her this time. The petite woman seemed lost and Beth smirked at her discombobulation, but recomposed herself immediately as the woman turned to look directly at her._

_"Hi, Alison Hendrix," the woman introduced herself, offering her hand to Beth and dropping a purple ball of yarn in the process._

_"Hi—"_

_"Do you know where I'm supposed to be?" Alison asked._

_"No, I'm just—"_

_"Are you set up already?"_

_"Me?" Beth pointed to herself and scoffed. "No, I—"_

_"Am I late? I thought we were supposed to—"_

_Beth cleared her throat and politely interrupted and said, "Ms. Hendrix, I'm a detective and I'm here because they needed security apparently."_

_"So you don't know where I'm supposed to be."_

_"No and that also means I'm not set up yet," Beth winked as she stooped down to pick up the yarn. She grinned and stuck it back in Alison's arms. It was then that the smaller brunette noticed the handgun in the detective's possession._

_"Sorry," the suburban woman replied. "This is my second crafts fair. I'm a little nervous."_

_"You don't say," Beth responded as she gestured to the hallway ahead of them._

_"You're probably somewhere in this hallway. I think they've stuck tape with names written on it on the floor."_

_"Thank you, detective," Alison answered, meeting Beth's gaze._

_"No problem..." the detective murmured, staring back into the woman's friendly light-brown eyes._

_Beth watched Alison Hendrix walk down the hallway, shuffling along with her hips swaying in fluid motions. She wore tight yoga pants that clung to her in all the right ways and a form-fitting pink shirt. Nothing that would ever appeal to Beth, but why was she so attracted to her? The detective shook her head and looked down only to see a familiar ball of purple yarn. Hadn't she just given this back to her? When could she have dropped it again? When had she dropped it again? The lapse of memory and note of detail confused the detective, but since she knew whose it was she might as well return it._

_"Ms. Hendrix, you dropped this... _Again_," Beth announced as she approached the woman's table. Alison's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the yarn._

_"I did?" she asked, her voice shrill. Beth stared at her, studying her face before nodding and placing it on the table in front of her. "Thank you so much!"_

_Beth examined her face more as the woman accepted the yarn and stuffed it into a box underneath the table._

_"And no Ms. Hendrix for me. Call me Alison," the woman requested._

_"Okay... Well then, Alison. I'll be around if you need me," the detective told her as she backed away and began pacing. She went down the hall and passed by the blonde, who smiled and waved at her. Beth plastered on another fake smile and did a corny wave back before turning around and rolling her eyes as she went back up the hallway. Just as she passed a Alison, the woman called out for her. "Yes?"_

_"Are you here because of," Alison paused to lower her tone, "the murderer?"_

_Beth looked around before leaning on her hands over the table and looking the woman in the eyes._

_"Yeah," she whispered, her face grave. "Turns out he's a mole in the precinct. Tryna kill me with exposure to extreme levels of suburbanization."_

_The words registered in Alison's mind and she gave the detective a scolding look before playfully pushing her off the table._

_"You had me going for a second there," the suburbanite admitted._

_"Good."_

_"But why're you really here?"_

_"The lieutenant stationed me here because nobody else wanted to work it," the detective admitted sheepishly._

_"Well, _I'd_ say you're working it..." Alison responded, causing Beth to question her intentions and the statement's true meaning. "The crafts fair."_

_The detective tried not to pay attention to the suburbanite's rushed tone, but she smiled at it and nodded._

_"Right..."_

_"I was watching the news the other night... Was the detective that was pursued by the murderer okay? The police never revealed the name... I've been worried about the person since I heard about it."_

_So you've been thinking about me without knowing..._

_"Uh, yeah. She's alright, I guess."_

_"You guess? Detective, she could've died!"_

_"But she didn't."_

_"But—"_

_"I'm not really supposed to talk about it..." Beth told her gently before smirking. "Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go patrol."_

_"Detective—"_

_"Call me Beth. And I'll see ya next time around the block okay?" she smiled and the suburban woman nodded. And Alison kept to her word as the next time Beth came down the hall, she called her over immediately._

_"Detective—Beth," Alison began. "You were that detective, weren't you?"_

_"Alison, I'm not allowed to—"_

_"It was you, wasn't it?" the woman asked, rising to her feet. Beth gazed at her, took her in; her height, the way she stood, everything. She was only slightly shorter than the detective and she stood with most of her weight on her right leg and had her arms crossed. The taller brunette nodded, keeping her head down. "Should I worry for my kids' safety?"_

_"You have kids?" Beth responded incredulously and inappropriately. She shook her head and recomposed herself, trying to appear professional. "Sorry. That is none of my business. What was your question?"_

_"Should I worry for my kids' safety?" Alison repeated._

_"No... Sh—He, the killer, goes after caucasian brunette females... Mid-twenties, early thirties. Unfortunately, I fit that description so that's why the psycho targeted me."_

_"I also fit that description," the woman remarked nervously._

_"Yeah, but luckily for you he doesn't change targets until the one he's pursuing is dead. And guess what? I ain't dead yet. So you're safe. As long as I'm alive, you'll be safe."_

_"I sure hope so..."_

_"So your kids..." Beth mentioned nonchalantly, knowing she'd easily be able to steer the conversation in the direction she wanted. "Do they know about the danger lurking about the streets?"_

_Alison shook her head shamefully._

_"How's your husband feel about it?"_

_"I don't know. We're divorced."_

_"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."_

_"Don't be. I had a bit of a drinking problem... He wasn't very supportive. This was my coping strategy."_

_I would've supported you..._

_"Knitting?" Beth asked, trying to refocus herself._

_"Yes. It kept my hands and my mind busy."_

I could keep your hands and your mind busy too... Keep it together, Childs!_ she scolded herself._

_"Good for you!" Beth exclaimed a little too enthusiastically. "Hopefully you'll be up for dating again soon, right?"_

_"I don't know... After Donnie... I don't think there's going to be a Mr. Right for me. I'm not saying he was my one and only Mr. Right—he certainly wasn't—I just don't think there is one."_

_"Oh? And why's that?"_

_"Who wants to enter a relationship with someone who has kids and was a borderline alcoholic?"_

Me. Oh God, me.

_"Hey, you never know. Someone might find it endearing."_

_"Are you always this sarcastic?" the suburbanite joked._

_"No... Do you think you could ever find a Ms. Right?" Beth asked, redirecting the conversation. Alison stopped and thought a bit._

_"I've never considered the idea."_

_"Well, you should. That way you're not excluding half the population and cutting your chances of finding The One by fifty percent."_

_"That's a good point..." Alison paused._

_"You ever gonna set up?" Beth asked, gesturing to Alison's boxes and bins. The suburbanite sprung to life in response and began bustling around behind the table, pulling out scarves, gloves, and hats. "You make those?"_

_"I do."_

_"How much do they go for?"_

_Beth witnessed the woman in pink check her out and smirk._

_"You don't have a wallet on you. Or a purse."_

_"Well, I'm not really too much of a purse type of gal—"_

_"Are you trying to haggle me?"_

_Beth grinned at being caught and at the way Alison Hendrix said the word 'haggle' and nodded, never showing an ounce of shame._

_"We've only just met," Alison teased, holding up a navy blue hat. "You want this? You have to pay for it."_

_"Ouch. Not much of a rule bender, huh?" Beth asked, not even bothering to dig through her empty pockets. She noticed Aynsley give her a dirty look for not being on the move._

_"No, I am not, thank you."_

_"Put that on hold for me..." Beth requested as she began to walk away from the table to start patrolling again. "'Til I think of a way to pay you for it. You interested in that?"_

_"Sure," Alison called after her, tucking the hat away. She eyed Aysnley on her right, who went straight back to work organizing after being caught staring. The brunette suppressed the urge to confront her about it and figured she was there to have fun, not cause drama or get worked up about anything._

**. . .**

Alison Hendrix's eyes told a different story_, Beth's mind insisted. _She knew damn well she dropped that yarn that second time. Hell, she might've even known the first time_._

_"Bullshit," Beth muttered to herself as she passed a table of soaps. The woman gave her a dirty look, but didn't say anything._

She flirted with you_, her brain argued. _You can't deny that.

"_Absurd," Beth whispered to herself, breezing by hand-knitted gloves._

_'_I'd say you're working it_,' she reminded herself._

_"That's just ridiculous," Beth murmured._

_"What are you, the town critic?" a man asked, snapping Beth from her thoughts. "If you don't have anything nice to say..."_

_"I know. Don't say it," Beth replied apologetically. "And I wasn't saying those things about the products. I was talking to myself."_

**. . .**

_"Miss, do you have a purple scarf?" a random woman asked Alison as she approached the table._

_"Yes I do."_

_"Like violet maybe?"_

_"Oh no... I have a lavender shade," Alison replied, pulling it out for the woman to see. "That's it. Unless you're willing to stretch to indigo..."_

_"Lavender's fine," the woman smiled. "I'll take it."_

_"Great. That'll be twenty dollars."_

_The woman handed Alison a twenty before accepting the scarf and walking off with it. Alison hid a proud smile as Beth came back around._

_"Hey, cutie. Miss me?" Beth stated as she leaned over the table. She wondered if she'd gone too far as she'd been restraining her most flirtatious remarks since the moment she saw Alison, but she couldn't anymore. That wasn't who she was and it was a struggle she figured wasn't necessary. Besides, she was about ninety percent sure the woman had made her own moves before so why shouldn't she have some fun?_

_"Uh..." Alison balked at the more forward Beth._

_"You still got that scarf for me?"_

_"It's a hat and yes I have it," Alison responded, finally unfreezing herself and offering a small smile. "Do you have your payment?"_

_"Yes I do. How about I pay you later with interest? Sound fair?"_

_"No. You shouldn't have to pay interest—"_

_"I want to pay interest," Beth insisted._

_"I take it you're one of those people who doesn't take no for an answer."_

_"Bullseye. So is that a yes?"_

_"I don't even know what I'm agreeing to..."_

_"Oh. I forgot. That's part of the deal. You don't know what you're agreeing to. So is it a yes?"_

_"I don't know..."_

_"Do you want your payment or not?" Beth asked with a huge grin._

_"I guess."_

_"So say yes."_

_Beth's childlike and pleading eyes entranced Alison and she couldn't tear her gaze away from the detective as she awaited an answer._

_"Yes," Alison finally replied. "It's a yes."_

_"Great! I'll pick you up at seven."_

_"Seven—what?" Alison asked, unsure as to if she'd heard the cop correctly._

_"Congratulations, Alison Hendrix! You just agreed to a date with me," Beth told her a little too loudly. Alison's heart pounded and she looked around, but no one else seemed to be paying attention. "A date of your choice."_

_"Beth, I—"_

_"It's okay. Just pick anything you want."_

_"Are you trying to flirt your way out of paying?" the suburban woman asked, though she was sure of the answer._

_"No..." Beth responded with a proud grin, which surprised Alison._

_"Then what are you after?"_

_"You," Beth admitted with a knowing smirk. "You didn't drop the yarn by accident the second time, Alison Hendrix. And I almost refuse to believe you did so even the first time."_

_"Okay, now you're really being a little cocky, don't you think—"_

_"Admit it, Alison..." Beth teased, watching a guilty smile spread across the woman's face. "You like me."_

_"I want a lawyer," Alison replied, looking up at Beth with teasing eyes._

_"I don't know... We could always play good cop bad cop... What do ya say?"_

_"I say—"_

_"I say it's about time you do another round, don't you think?" Aysnley asked, surprising the both of them. The brunettes both jumped and refrained from glaring at her._

_"Aynsley, why don't you—"_

_"I'd say you ought to watch your table instead of worry about me," Beth responded, gesturing to a man lurking around Aynsley's station. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he's about to grab something and run."_

_Just as the words left the detective's mouth, the man did exactly as she'd predicted and Aynsley looked to her for help with panic behind her blue eyes._

"_Oh! Do you _want_ me to chase him?" Beth asked, feigning surprise and incredulity that anyone would ever expect her to do such a thing. The detective sprinted off before the blonde could reply and both Alison and Aynsley watched her tear down the next hall, catching up to the thief within seconds. The women—and everyone else in the hall for that matter—witnessed her jump and tackle him to the ground._

_"Hands off me, bitch!" he spat, squirming as he tried to free himself from her iron grip._

_"Hands off the jewelry first," she responded, unfazed by his name calling._

_"I didn't take nothin'!" he shouted._

_"See, to me..." Beth began as she took out her gun and cocked it. "That means ya did take something."_

_The man froze as she positioned it and all wriggling ceased as he put his hands up in the surrender position. She could feel the eyes among the crowd staring attentively at her like an audience._

_"Look, dude. I don't really wanna frisk you, alright? That's not my thing. I don't want that, you don't want that. Just gimme the necklace or bracelet or whatever it is that you stole," Beth told him. "You don't look like a bad guy. I really don't want to have to hurt you over a stupid little thing. It's not when worth much, you know that right?"_

_"I know it's not," he muttered, slowly moving a hand to take the thing out of his jacket's pocket. Beth watched him carefully as he did so. "This's gonna sound like a sob story, but bear with me here."_

_"Great. I love these. You know the best one I've heard so far? 'My evil twin did it.' That was a good one. Know where that came from? Some lunatic. She said to me, 'Detective! You don't understand! I wasn't the one who killed my mother, my evil twin sister did it!' So what is it today, man? Evil twin? You got the wrong guy? That whole spiel? Just save it. I've heard it all before. You're just wasting your time and not to mention mine—"_

_"It's my little girl's birthday—"_

_"Oh please."_

_"And she wanted one of Ms. Norris' bracelets," he told her as he dropped the bracelet on the floor. "Her kid's a friend of my daughter's."_

_"Well after today, they're not gonna be friends anymore," Beth told him, hoisting him up off the floor along with the bracelet._

_"No really. Ask Aynsley herself. But I've just been laid off and I don't have money to pay for it."_

_"And you couldn't have asked your kid's friend's mother for a cheaper price? Gotta try harder than that, buddy—"_

_"I couldn't ask. It's embarrassing and she's the neighborhood gossip. Besides... She'd never lower the price for me—or anyone for that matter."_

_"That may just be the most believable thing you've said to me," Beth responded._

_"It's all there. Everything I said. You can check it all and it'll all be true."_

_"Look, just stop talking. You know you don't have to speak without a lawyer present, right?" Beth asked, preparing to cuff him._

_"Bring me to Aynsley. Let me explain. She'll prove it to you—"_

_"You think Ms. Norris's gonna vouch for you after you stole this?" Beth asked, shaking the bracelet in front of him._

_"No, but at least she can prove what I said is true..."_

_Beth snorted and began dragging him along._

_"Detective, please. I can't go to jail. My wife only works part time as it is—"_

_"Ms. Norris," Beth called the blonde, who promptly came over. "You were listening. Is that true?"_

_"Yes, his and my kids are friends... And if I'm not mistaken his daughter's birthday is in two days..."_

_"Ms. Norris, what're the odds of this being the truth?"_

_Aynsley looked at the pathetic looking man and sighed before slowly nodding her head._

_"Very high..."_

_"Are you feeling coerced in any way?" Beth asked._

_"No. I've heard the kids talk about his daughter not eating lunch at school. I thought it was odd, but I never looked into it..."_

_"So I should believe him," Beth clarified, watching the blonde's eyes. Aysnley cast a hesitant look of compassion toward the man before nodding._

_"Yes, I suppose you should."_

_"Today's your lucky day, dude. You're free. I won't even take you in, alright?"_

_The man nodded thankfully at the detective and then at Aynsley._

_"I'll pay you back as soon as I can," he promised the blonde who nodded again. Beth sighed as she jammed her hand into her pocket and retrieved a ten dollar bill, much to Alison's surprise._

_"Ms. Norris," she remarked as she handed the money over for the man and gave him the bracelet back. "And keep the change."_

_"Detective, you don't—"_

_"I just did," Beth told him with a genuine smile. "Like I said. Today's your lucky day."_

_"Thank you so much," he thanked her and slunk off, clearly embarrassed for having caused such a scene. Beth looked back up and saw several people gawking at her and Aynsley and she rolled her eyes._

_"Everybody clear!" she commanded, walking to join up with Alison and hoping things would get back to normal._

_"No money on you, hm?" Alison teased gently. "But in all seriousness, that was very generous of you."_

_"I always keep a ten in my pocket wherever I go... Even if I don't have a wallet. If you really wanted me to pay you, ya should've frisked me."_

_"Maybe I will next time," Alison retorted before slapping her hand over her mouth. Beth looked over at her wide eyes and could tell she wasn't used to saying things like that. "Wow, that was... Really inappropriate. I'm—"_

_"Hold on... That better not be an apology trying to come out, Ali."_

_"I hate nicknames."_

_"You use mine..." Beth pointed out. "I mean, you must know my full name isn't Beth."_

_"True..."_

_"Now about that frisking..."_

_"Beth, don't you dare—"_

_"Relax, I'm not. We're not there yet. I'd still be in the hole by five bucks or somethin' like that. So I'd still owe you anyway."_

_"You don't. Not after that."_

_"What, the frisking or the other thing?"_

_"The other thing."_

_"Ah."_

_"So... Relentless flirting... That's a pretty strong tactic in hooking me. It was cute. I'll give you that," Alison told her as she led the way to her table._

_"I'm sensing there's a 'but' on its way somewhere..."_

_"There is_. But _being kind to people is an absolute _clincher_," Alison confessed as she sat down._

_"An _absolute clincher, _huh?" Beth smirked proudly. "Is that your way of saying that it's a turn-on?"_

_"Don't flatter yourself," Alison remarked, though she smiled secretively as she said it._

_"I'll have to keep that in mind."_

_"But don't go all soft, Beth. That's not attractive to me," Alison teased._

_"So what is?"_

_"A strong, supportive person... but not overbearing or desensitized, you know?" Alison responded as she thought. "Like, concerned, but not a busybody—not nosy. But of course be compassionate and kind, but not a... a..."_

_"A kiss-ass?"_

_"I wasn't going to say _that,_" Alison answered quickly. "A goody-goody."_

_"That sounds complex."_

_"I know. But if I could find someone who is that and will be that for me... Well, I just might marry them."_

_"I'll keep that in mind," Beth smiled as she snuck a side glance at the woman._

_"If you can find me a person like that, you won't owe me anything ever," Alison told her jokingly. The detective nodded and gave her a small smile._

_"Just give me some time."_


	3. She's Missing!

Alison hummed "Defying Gravity" to herself, a tune from the musical Wicked, as she folded the freshly clean clothes. She loved Elphaba, but even more so Idina Menzel. That woman had more talent in her pinky finger than anyone she knew. Donnie had the kids this weekend, so she had the house to herself. At the thought, she burst out into song figuring that no one was around to hear.

"_It's time to try defying gravity. I think I'll try defying gravity. Kiss me goodbye—_" Alison stopped herself short and thought of Beth Childs, her late girlfriend and detective, who finally fell victim to the serial killer that'd been stalking her and still roamed the streets at night presently.

She still remembered those words the detective had said to her on the day they met, '_Just give me some time_,' and she loved how positive they were. They assumed a future after only having met her that day a few hours earlier. And she had indeed given her time and during that time, they fell in love and travelled together whenever they could. She was so sure the woman was ready to give her a ring and pop the question. They'd had dinner plans on a Monday, two days after Beth had died.

The detective had died almost a year ago, but she often crossed the woman's mind. Then again, so did the killer. How was the man able to evade arrest and avoid detection for so long? He'd never left a single trace of his DNA at any of the crime scenes; only the victims' own DNA could be found. The suburban woman pushed the thought from her head and went back to humming, only to stop once again when she heard the doorbell ring. She set her son Oscar's blue superman shirt down and walked to the doorbell and saw an unfamiliar man standing outside. She ducked out of view and pulled a small handgun out of a drawer of a side table before answering the door with the gun-wielding hand behind the door. "Hello, Sir."

"Ma'am," he replied with a non-threatening smile. She finally noticed that he wore a uniform of some sort and relaxed a little as he began to speak again. "I have a delivery for you."

"From whom?" Alison asked suspiciously, her hand tightening around the gun.

"Um..." he looked down at his papers and shrugged. "It doesn't say."

"Set it on the porch please," Alison sighed, looking to the sky for help. She'd been receiving these gifts for the past six months and she was sure it was the murderer taunting her and telling her that he stole her everything, but she hadn't brought any of it to the police. She feared his consequences in response to any requested police action. She didn't want him coming after her and she definitely didn't want him after her kids.

The man set the package on the porch and backed away, sensing her discomfort and put his hands up as if surrendering.

"Thank you," Alison called after him before closing and locking the door behind him and leaning against it for support. She sighed heavily before finding a steak knife to cut the box open to reveal a left shoe, or more specifically, Beth's left shoe. And it was missing its lace, just like the right one was.

Beth had gone out for a jog and she never came back. Alison was used to her running for an hour or two, but after three or four hours, she panicked and called it in only to receive the news the police had just found her dead behind a dumpster, stripped of all her belongings as well as her dignity and bone structure—the killer had mangled her beyond recognition. And ever since then, he sent Alison her belongings. Her elastic for her hair had been the first thing to arrive in a box. Then her hat, followed by her t-shirt, jacket, pants, and socks—each separately—and now her shoes. This was the final shoe as the suburbanite had received the right one exactly a month ago, the typical time between each article of clothing.

Tears prickled behind her eyes as she noticed small clumps of dirt and stones that'd fallen out of the grips of the detective's shoes rolling around in the box. He'd kept them and preserved them it seemed. He'd even washed the t-shirt—it no longer had the ketchup stain from the omelette she'd eaten before she left.

That was a quirk Beth had. She liked ketchup on her eggs in the morning and it'd always bothered Alison and she always voiced her complaints as Beth kissed her goodbye with her ketchup-egg breath. And while it always made her cringe, the soccer mom missed it. The tangy acidic flavor of the ketchup, the salty, cheesy aftertaste of the egg; and the best part—the hint of Beth that followed.

And now Alison had the detective's left shoe. The missing piece of the puzzle that was Beth's last outfit. It was finished. Whatever it was. And as creepy as Alison found it, she secretly looked forward to seeing a new familiar piece of Beth each month. And now that she had the entire completed outfit, she didn't know what to do or what was to come.

**. . .**

"Agent Stubbs, my name is Bel H. Discht and I am the head person on this case," the brunette informed her. The woman's voice carried an extremely faint German accent.

"Pleased to meet you, Ma'am."

"You've just been assigned to this case because I feel you are a trustworthy individual."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"And already I have a huge favor to ask of you," Discht replied solemnly, looking into the jovial woman's eyes.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I need you to keep an eye on a civilian... Last year, a detective of the Toronto area was murdered ruthlessly while on a morning jog. Bludgeoned and mutilated beyond human recognition. She left behind her girlfriend, the civilian."

"Is she in danger?"

"I would like to believe she isn't, but better safe than sorry, correct? I would like you to keep a watchful eye on her."

"For how long?"

"However long it takes to catch the motherfucker."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"I've left an address on your desk. That will be your new house. You've been located just down the street from the subject. It's comfortable, nothing shabby. Your name is Sarah Stubbs. You're new and you've joined the Glendale Community Theatre because you love acting and you want to make new friends, i.e. the civilian. Have I made myself clear so far?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the woman replied, taking out a pad and pen before furiously jotting down the information and anticipating more to come.

"The civilian's name is Alison Hendrix. Not Ali. Alison. She hates the nickname Ali. She's divorced from her former husband, Donnie and has two children, Oscar—her oldest—and Gemma. They're adopted as she's barren and that's a sore subject for her, so do not touch upon it for any reason. Understood?"

"Yes."

"You'll know her when you see her. Petite brunette with straight hair and bangs. Late twenties and wears pink more times than not and yoga pants, but she hates yoga. She's a soccer mom and drives a van and her hobbies include arts and crafts such as sewing and card making and, of course, theatre."

"Anything else I should take note of?"

"She's doesn't seem to be over her girlfriend's death yet. Try to be oblivious to the fact. Don't bring it up unless she does. And she's paranoid so don't do anything to tip her off or make her suspicious of you and your intentions. Be an open book."

"Can do."

"One more thing, Agent."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"This is the most important part of the assignment, so listen carefully."

"I'm all ears," the agent promised as she wrote 'IMPORTANT' on the top of a new page and drew a thick underline underneath it before readying herself to write.

"Just be a friend. A shoulder to lean on. Supportive, but not overbearing. Concerned, but not nosy. Kind, but not a goody two-shoes. Strong, but not insensitive. Sympathetic, but not weepy. And most of all—"

"Hold on, hold on..." the agent paused and read back what she had. "Okay. I got that my house is nothing fancy; shabby. My name is Sarah Stubby—"

"Stubbs. Your name is Sarah _Stubbs_—" the woman interjected forcefully. "Like your actual name—"

"—and I'm a loser that doesn't have any friends, but I'd love to get some. Her name's Alison and she hates some lady named Ali and is divorced and has two kids. Oscar and Emma—"

"_Gemma_," the woman corrected, rubbing her temples out of frustration. "Her name is Gemma."

"—she's straight and has bangs and wears pink, but doesn't like her yoga pants and likes crafts and acting and isn't over her girlfriend's death yet and is probably a paranoid schizophrenic."

"Agent Stubbs, I thought you said I was being clear—"

"You were," the agent smiled proudly, unaware of the woman's annoyance. The woman pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily before running a hand through her hair and suppressing the urge to yank at it. "I do have a question though. If she had a girlfriend, why did you say she was straight—"

"_Go_," the woman's strained tone whispered as as closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. "Just _go_."

"Yes, Ma'am!" the agent saluted once more before spinning smoothly on her heel and walking off. The woman put her hands on her hips, but then quickly changed her position to cross them.

"Agent!" the brunette snapped as she pressed her fingers into her eyelids. The stout woman turned around expectantly. "The exit is this way."

"Oh. Right. Thanks."

"Mm-hm," the woman replied curtly. She heard the doors to an elevator open and close as the brunette got in and the woman looked up at the ceiling with her exasperated eyes. "_Christ_..."

**. . .**

"_Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost... Well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a cost! I'd sooner buy defying gravity. Kiss me goodbye_—" Alison stopped partly because of the line that'd come out of her mouth and partly because she was sure she'd heard three knocks on her front door.

She peeked out, saw a stout woman at her door, and she plastered a friendly smile on her face in response to the woman's amiable grin.

"Hi! I'm Sarah Stubbs. I just moved in down the street. I figured I might as well get to know my neighbors!" the woman exclaimed before the smaller woman could speak. Alison moved aside to let her in and it was only then she noticed a pie in her hands.

"Hello, Sarah. Alison Hendrix."

"I'm kind of old-fashioned, I know..." Sarah gestured to the pie as she went to set it down on a counter. "But that's just something that was instilled within my character, you know?"

Sarah made sure to be as honest as possible as she spoke, carefully choosing her words and trying to think ahead. Truth was that she wasn't a great baker and the pie had been fresh and ready as soon as she got there with a note tucked underneath it that had a task for her written on it—give it to Alison Hendrix.

"Oh, that's fine. Is it apple?" Alison asked, trying not to sound too disgusted by the flavor. She hated apple pie, something Beth could never understand when they were together. Nobody knew about her distaste for that specific pie, however, because Alison chose to be a closeted apple pie hater.

"Nope. Guess again," Sarah threw the woman a dazzling smile.

"Blueberry?" Alison tried, controlling her tone once again to conceal her hatred of that flavor as well. Sarah shook her head and it only intrigued Alison further. "Cherry?"

"No!" Sarah replied gleefully. "Guess again."

"Some sort of chocolate?"

Another negating shake of the head from the stranger.

"Lemon?"

"Mm-mm."

"Banana?"

"Nope."

"I give up," Alison responded honestly. She couldn't think of another type of typical pie someone would think to make.

"Strawberry," Sarah told her proudly as she rolled up her sleeves to take a peek at some notes she'd written on her arm. "Made with... All the essential ingredients, but lite cool whip and reduced-fat graham crackers for the crust. Everybody's watching their calories nowadays, hope you don't mind... Although you don't look like you even need to."

"Thank you, Sarah. That was very sweet of you. That's my favorite kind and coincidentally, I actually happen to like the lite cool whip and the reduced-fat graham crackers because I simply like the taste better. But being healthier is a plus... Would you like some now or shall I put it away?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Thank you."

"Sure thing," Alison replied as she went to put the pie on the fridge. "Tell me, Sarah. Where did you come from?"

"Virginia. A few miles west of Washington D.C., actually."

"And now you're all the way up here?"

"I guess so!" Sarah answered brightly. Alison studied the enthusiastic woman carefully, analyzing everything.

"Where in Virginia are you from?" Alison asked curiously, stepping toward Sarah.

"Langley."

"Never heard of it."

"It's real, trust me. It gets really hot down there. That's part of the reason I moved all the way up here."

"Well, you're sure to be cooler up here."

"I look forward to that."

"At least your kids probably won't mind building a few more snowmen," Alison commented, using an interrogation technique Beth taught her as she leaned against the counter. "Right?"

"Oh, I don't have kids. I'm single too," the woman smiled. "But I'm hoping to have kids someday, you know? Maybe like two. One of each."

Sarah eyed Alison, hoping she wasn't touching the untouchable, according to her boss and suddenly feeling the need to stop talking.

"I have two children. One of each, actually. My son is my oldest."

"How are they?"

"They're good, I suppose."

"Great," Sarah nodded once, suddenly feeling awkward. "That's great."

An uncomfortable silence befell them, but Sarah's cellphone soon cut the tension and she hurriedly and thankfully picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Agent. And how is Miss Sarah Stubbs settling into her new home?"

"Very well."

"And the neighbors? What does she think of them?"

"Very nice," Sarah replied, her eyes darting to look at Alison, who seemed to not be paying any attention to her.

"And have you found Ms. Hendrix?"

"Yes."

"And the pie?"

"All taken care of."

"Very good. Is it safe to assume you've found favor in our subject's eyes?"

"I'd say so."

"I'll check in later tonight as well."

The line went dead before the woman could confirm and she hung up before turning to face her acquaintance.

"Sorry. That was a business call."

"Quite alright," Alison assured her.

"Well, I better get going. Still have to finish unpacking," Sarah lied as she moved toward the door and opened it.

"Do you want any help?" Alison asked as she followed her over.

"No thank you. It'll give me some good exercise and something to pass time and get familiar with my house. But thanks for the offer," Sarah smiled before closing the door behind her. Alison watched the woman disappear down the street through the window, never once remembering seeing a moving truck.

**. . .**

Sarah Stubbs made it home and stood in her front door, finally having the chance to have a legitimate look at her home. As the woman had promised, it wasn't too shabby, but it definitely was higher end. She explored the downstairs kitchen, living, and dining rooms before making her way upstairs and looking at the multiple bedrooms and bathroom. As she opened the door to the master bedroom she jumped at the sight of the woman sitting on her bed.

"Sarah Stubbs. Good to see you," Discht smiled thinly as she stood up and nodded at the surprised woman. "I presume Alison was delighted to see her favorite pie flavor?"

"I guess so."

"Learn about your subjects before you become involved, Agent Stubbs."

"Boss, I know this it out of line, but..." Sarah began. "Tell me about yourself. Why are you so rigid? You never smile..."

"Smiling is overrated."

"It may be, but don't you ever want to have some fun?"

**. . . . .**

_"C'mon, Ali! Get in! Nobody's gonna see us. We're in the middle of the forest. In a cabin. You'll be fine."_

_"Beth, I wouldn't care if we were on another planet! I'm not stripping down to swim with you. Somebody could see us."_

_"So? We'd be submerged in our steamy hot tub of love..." Beth joked as she neared the edge of it and bit her lip. "It'd be like censoring on TV. You get an idea, but it's still blurry enough that you can't see."_

_"I said no."_

_Beth stood up rapidly, exposing her bare body to her girlfriend's wandering eyes and she stared at her with intense pleading and desire, knowing the woman would break any second._

_"Beth... Don't you dare do that."_

_"Do what?" Beth asked, stepping out and ignoring the cool air against her wet skin as she approached the brunette._

_"Look at me like that."_

_"Aw, Ali... C'mon... I just want a hug—"_

_"No! No. Don't you dare touch me—" Alison chuckled nervously as Beth's wet arms reached out for her dry ones. Alison tried to dodge the hug, but Beth saw it coming and compensated. She pulled her into a wet hug before lifting her off her feet and plopping her into the hot tub, clothes and all. "You a-hole..."_

_"That's right. I'm your little a-hole..." Beth murmured leaning in for a kiss. Alison shook her head, but pressed her lips against Beth's for a quick kiss. "Now let's get you out of these wet clothes."_

_"Beth... I said no."_

_"C'mon, you're already in. All you gotta do now is strip for me, baby."_

_"Beth..."_

_"Unless you want me to undress you... To which I'd happily oblige."_

_Alison fell silent as her eyes fell on the detective's moist lips, which then pulled into a triumphant grin as Beth move to lift Alison's shirt off over her head._

_"You ever made love in a hot tub?" Beth growled softly, pushing Alison to the wall of the tub. The suburbanite swallowed hard and shook her head before Beth kissed her neck. "Try somethin' new. Don't you ever wanna have some fun?"_

**. . .**

"I've had enough fun in my life, it seems. And unfortunately fun comes at a high price. Not even worth it if you ask me. I was out having fun when the detective was murdered. The civilian's misery is all my fault."

"Sorry, Ma'am."

"Quite alright," the woman responded, tilting her head down, but maintaining eye contact.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really..."

The woman studied Sarah Stubbs' face, which seemed dejected—an unusual expression for her.

"Not yet," the woman clarified, hoping to fix her answer and thus the agent's mood. "In time."

"Good because talking to people helps. I'm here to be your friend too, you know. You can't keep shutting me out."

"I won't. I'm... I'm... I'll tell you one day when I'm ready, okay?"

"Of course. Whenever you're ready."

**. . . . .**

_"Are you ready?" Art asked, setting his hands on his hips._

_"I don't know..."_

_"C'mon, Beth. We're gonna do this. We're finally gonna catch the bastard."_

_"I know..."_

_"What's wrong?"_

_"I feel like I have a target on my back. He's gonna kill me, I know it."_

_"How do you know that for sure? You got a vest on, you got me, and you got your gun. What more do you need?"_

_"He's already tried to kill me once before and I had all those then too."_

_"Beth, don't worry. We got this. We know where he crashes and we have an idea of what he looks like."_

_"Oh yeah? And what does he look like to you?" Beth asked challengingly._

_"He's a short dude. Probably feels emasculated because of it... A brunette woman in his life was most likely the catalyst and he's acting out a fantasy of his—"_

_"Yeah, yeah..." Beth rolled her eyes. "Right."_

_"So are you ready?"_

_"Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose..."_

**. . . . .**

_"Did you ever catch him?" Alison asked, hearing the sound of a utensil bounce off the table and onto Beth's lap._

_"Shit!" Beth spat, picking up the fork and furiously wiping at the ketchup stain. Alison turned her attention away from the morning news. Beth sighed and answered, "No, he wasn't there. And neither was his stuff for that matter."_

_"So he knew you knew."_

_"Probably... He's a lot more calculated than these people think. I mean, sure he's messy when he kills, but he's no idiot."_

_Beth rose to her feet and carried her plate to the sink as she eyed Alison, who seemed nervous and worried._

_"Ali, what's wrong?"_

_"I don't want you to go for your morning run today," Alison replied quickly, knowing Beth exercised religiously and not much could deter her from her morning run. "I'm scared."_

_"Ali, what're you so afraid of?" Beth asked. "I'm off duty. It's the weekend. I'm just gonna go for a run. I'll be back later."_

_"What if he goes after you?"_

_"He won't."_

_"How do you know that?"_

_Beth fell silent as she didn't know for a fact the killer wouldn't. She didn't even know how the person knew so much about her. She was being stalked and she didn't even know when and where._

_"I just know, alright?" Beth murmured, stroking Alison's hair._

_"What if he comes after me?"_

_"He won't," Beth promised. "Once he's got a target, he can only focus on that one. As long as I'm alive, you'll be safe. Remember?"_

_"As long as you're alive, you won't be safe."_

_"Ali, he doesn't kill with a gun. Not when he could kill at a closer range with his own personalized knife. He likes disfigurement. That's his thing. I'll be fine because I'm good with hand-to-hand, alright?"_

_Alison had nothing else left to say. She could see that Beth wouldn't be taking no for an answer so she forced a smile and nodded her reluctant approval._

_"Okay," she replied quietly._

_"Alright. I'll see you in about an hour," Beth promised, leaning in for a kiss. Alison gave her a quick peck on the lips and held back her look of disgust in response to the taste of the ketchup and egg combination._

_"Get back soon so I can wash your shirt," Alison told her as Beth went out the door. "That's going to be a pain to clean."_

_"Sorry!" Beth called back with a smile and a wave as she started off down the street. "You'll only have to wait an hour! I'll be back, Ali, I promise."_

_And with that, Elizabeth Childs blew Alison a kiss before turning back around and jogging at a more reasonable speed. And Alison pretended to catch the kiss and smiled as she watched the detective disappear out of sight. And she waited for her to come back as she promised she would. But Elizabeth Childs never came back._

**. . . . .**

_"Nine-one-one, what's the address of the emergency?" the man asked, his tone carried a trained sense of calm._

_"Thirty-five Black Oak Drive—" Alison hurriedly answered, trying to rush it and tell him the emergency._

_"What's the phone number I can call you back on?"_

_"My girlfriend hasn't come back from her morning run," Alison blurted, her voice cracking._

_"Who am I speaking with?" the man tried._

_"Alison. Alison Hendrix—"_

_"Now tell me what the exact problem is—"_

_"Sir, my girlfriend hasn't come back from her morning jog. She only goes for about an hour—two at the most—and it's been about three or four."_

_"Ma'am, I'm going to ask that you calm down—"_

_"Don't you tell me to calm down, you ruffled potato!" Alison spat. "My girlfriend is missing. Do you hear me? She's missing! The love of my life is missing and I don't know where she is—_

_"Ma'am—"_

_"Don't you 'Ma'am' me. I know something bad has happened to her. She's– She's a detective and some guy has been stalking her for weeks—"_

_"Ma'am," he tried once more. This time Alison fell silent. "Does the name of your girlfriend happen to be Elizabeth Childs?"_

_"Yes. Yes, that's her. Is she alright?"_

_"Ms. Hendrix, you're going to want to come down to the station... We think we've found your girlfriend—"_

_"Found her? Found her how?" Alison asked, her heart accelerating in her chest as she prepared for the worst._

_"We need you to identify a body if possible. I'm sorry for your loss."_

_"If possible!? What—"_

_The line went dead before Alison could finish and her heart sank. No way could Elizabeth Childs be dead. She'd just seen her and spoken with her earlier that morning. It couldn't be possible. It couldn't be real..._


	4. I'm Sorry (Doesn't Cut It)

"So, Sarah, tell me about yourself," Alison remarked as they sat and waited for the others to begin showing up for the play rehearsal.

"Not much to say. I grew up like an average girl. Moved around a few times. Now I'm settled here."

"What do you do for a job?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you..." Sarah replied jokingly, though she had seriousness hidden behind her jesting manner. "How about you? How has your life been?"

"Well, I married my high school sweetheart and adopted two kids with him. And then I met someone at a crafts fair and pretty soon, I'd fallen out of love with my former high school sweetheart and with the person I'd met at the fair."

"Really? Did the person make things as well?"

"No... No... She was a—" Alison paused to smile at the memory, "—a very unamused detective who was only there because her boss told her to be. And she made it known that she hated it."

"You said you fell in love with her... Right then? At that crafts fair? She must've been quite the charmer..."

"Oh she was," Alison nodded for emphasis. "She was. She completely swept me off my feet. She... had this smile. And um... well, it didn't come out very often, but when it did... _God_, when it did... It could light up the world. You know, if she ever told me to jump off a cliff... I'd do it. Most likely because she charmed me into doing it, but also because I'd have faith that she would be waiting at the bottom to catch me... She was like that, you know. Beth—that was her name—had a heart of gold."

"I can tell," Sarah responded, trying to picture the woman from all the information the soccer mom had given her. The intense adoration seeping out of the woman's eyes told her everything.

"I told her one time that I wanted someone strong and supportive, but still had feelings for others. And was caring and kind to others sincerely... And she became that—no, she was that—for me. She was everything I could ever want... I loved her _so_ much..." Alison whispered, her voice cracking. She took a deep breath and tried to recompose herself as best she could. "And I still do love her..."

"I'm sure you do," Sarah nodded, rubbing Alison's back supportively.

"But her job got to be too much... She had a psychopath hot on her heels. He stalked her. Called her at work... threatened her. And one day... he killed her. He took her away from me. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I never even said a goodbye, for that matter... My last words to her were about me wanting to wash her shirt..."

Sarah remained silent as it appeared the woman was deep in thought. She felt she'd asked too many questions and in turn had made the woman upset, which made her feel guilty. She'd done exactly what her boss told her not to do.

**. . .**

"Stubbs," Discht stated from behind her desk, her accent more noticeable as she forced out the name in frustration.

"Yes, Ma'am?" Sarah responded as she entered the office.

"A certain conversation you had with the subject... concerns me."

"I'm sorry. But she did bring it up first..."

"Very well... Agent Stubbs, I want to thank you for all your help—"

"Agent Discht... This sounds like a goodbye..." Sarah cut in, clearly worried.

"Agent Stubbs, I want to thank you for your help," Discht tried again. "And so I wish to give you some time off. I will be your stand-in of course, as it would be impossible to find a substitute that is as adept and familiar with the subject as you or me, but you only have a week off."

"So this isn't a goodbye?" Sarah asked, relieved and happy to get time off, despite not finding her job too strenuous.

"No, Agent, it is not a goodbye," Discht smiled thinly at her. "You are dismissed."

"Good, because I'd miss you... and thank you," Sarah nodded once before exiting the secluded office.

**. . .**

_"What do you mean they're sure they have him?" Alison asked Beth as she followed her out to the kitchen. "Beth, where are you going?"_

_"Ali, I have to go. They've got him for sure. I gotta go with the rest of the squad."_

_"Why should you have to go?" Alison asked, her voice cracking as she grew more and more emotional. "You've been his target! They should let you stay home—"_

_"And do what, Ali?" Beth sighed, turning to look at the distraught woman. "Sit in suspense and not know if the team is okay?"_

_"No, you're to sit with me and hold me... And love me," Alison told her quietly. She swallowed hard and looked away before continuing, "Ever since you've been tracking this guy, you're never home. And whenever you're away, I'm afraid you won't come back... I need you, Beth. I need you and... and... I need your eyes. I need them looking at me and loving me..."_

_"Ali..." Beth reached for her and took her hand._

_"And I need your lips, kissing me. And your arms hugging me... And your legs when they're trying to get me to dance when I'm trying to cook or clean..." Alison looked back at the cop. "I need you, Beth. Please don't go..."_

_"Ali, I have to."_

_"But what if you—" Alison's voice caught in her throat and she couldn't finish the sentence._

_"Ali, you could speculate about any outcome. What if this happens, what if that happens. What if I _live? _This isn't a goodbye, Ali, I know it. I feel it in my bones. I love you, Ali. I really do. But I have to go," Beth told her before kissing her quickly on the forehead and facing the door._

_"So that's it? You're just going to leave?" Alison sniffled. "Just like that?"_

_"Ali, I have to. But I'll come back. I promise. I always do."_

_Alison nodded and whispered, "I love you too, Beth. _So_ much."_

_"I'll make it up to ya when I get home, alright? We can do whatever you want. I'll stare at you all ya want, I'll kiss you all you want—_wherever_ you want—and I'll hug you so tightly, you'll want me to let go. And when I finally do, we'll dance if that'll please you."_

_"Just come home," Alison requested. "That's all I want. You."_

_"Okay," Beth offered a small smile before ducking out the door and saying a goodbye behind herself._

**. . .**

Agent Discht hated stakeouts. She hated always having to wear the stereotypical outfits and the sunglasses and all the accessories that came with them. But most of all, she hated how still she had to be and how much patience it took to watch someone from afar. Only, she didn't really have to watch Ms. Alison Hendrix from afar. She could talk to her. If only her accent wouldn't set the woman off with a bout of paranoia and wondering what a German person was doing talking to her.

Now, Alison Hendrix wasn't racist. She just was able to find little things in everyone that'd make her nervous. Accent, clothing choice, anything. So why did Discht go against her better judgment and talk to Alison anyway? She didn't know. Perhaps she thought she could charm the trust out of the woman. Or maybe she just wanted to be up close and personal for old time's sake. After all, _Bel H. Discht_ was just an anagram for _Beth Childs_...

**. . .**

_Beth pulled into the driveway to see Alison sitting on the steps in front of the door with one hand rested on her knee, supporting her head and the other on the cross that hung around her neck. She witnessed the petite woman's head shoot up at the sound of her car and watched her eyes stare into the car before showing recognition of the driver behind the wheel._

_"Beth!" the cop heard her exclaim as she parked. "You're back!"_

_"Of course I'm back," Beth grinned as she got out of the car. "I always keep my promises."_

_Alison ran over to her and began smothering her with kisses all over her face and lips._

_"Honey—" Beth paused as Alison's lips pressed against hers for an umpteenth time. "Did you lock yourself out again?"_

_The smaller woman kissed her again and shook her head._

_"No."_

_"Okay—" another pause for yet another tender kiss. "Then why're you out here? All alone..."_

_"I waited for you. Did you catch him?"_

_"No..." Beth reluctantly answered. "No, we didn't. He'd cleared out again. No sign of the bastard anywhere."_

_"So you're still not safe?" Alison clarified, stopping all display of affection and replacing it with concern._

_"Mm... Not quite... Right now he's on the move, right? So when would he have time to strike?" Beth asked._

_"That's true..."_

_"I'm not saying I'm totally off his kill list, but I've definitely been pushed down."_

_"I'm still going to worry about you."_

_"Understandable. Now... How about we go inside? I recall promising to make it up to you and I sure as hell can't do that if I'm outside and fully dressed..."_

**. . .**

Alison opened the door reveal a strange woman only a few inches taller than her, wearing a hat and sunglasses and dark clothes. Already the woman had sent little red warning flags up in the suburban woman's head, but nevertheless she remained pleasant.

"Hello," the suburban woman smiled cautiously.

"Good evening," came a thickly accented reply.

"May I help you with something?" Alison asked her, wracking her brain to pinpoint exactly what kind of accent the woman had.

"I am a friend of Sarah Stubbs'. I am just visiting for this week," the stranger told her. "She said to meet you. She speaks very highly of you."

"Ah. And what is your name?" Alison asked, careful to keep her tone light and inquisitive rather than suspicious.

"Bel," the woman replied. "Bel H. Discht. Nice to meet you."

"Where are you from?" Alison inquired, deciding to let the woman into her house.

"I am also from Langley, Virginia."

Alison's heart pounded. Everything this woman said disconcerted her. It was all too weird. Why was she foreign? Why did she have to specifically meet her? Why was she from the exact same place that her new neighbor was? The suburban woman told herself to calm down as she forced a smile at the newcomer.

"Oh. Where did you meet Sarah?"

"At work, of course."

"Hm. And what do you do?"

"I'm afraid that is classified."

"Mm-hm," Alison nodded once, making her mind up about the woman being too suspicious to let go. She held up a finger and said, "One second."

The woman nodded and settled herself into the couch as Alison disappeared around a corner. She looked around and saw pictures of Alison and Beth together and smiled, knowing Alison hadn't really ever let Beth go. Alison returned with a gun pointed at her and a scowl on her face.

"What are you doing here really?" she demanded. "You don't know Sarah, do you?"

"I do know Sarah—"

"Prove it."

"How?"

"I don't know, just... What do you want?" Alison asked, her hands shaking.

"I just wanted to talk to you—"

"That isn't helping your case."

"Ali—"

"Don't call me that!" Alison roared, shaking the gun at the woman. "Don't you _dare_ call me that. My _girlfriend_ used to call me that! She—"

Alison stopped as a new idea formed in her mind. Perhaps the killer that'd killed Beth wasn't a male at all. Perhaps it was a female, a female that happened to be standing in that very room with her. The suburbanite cocked the gun and readied her finger to pull the trigger.

"Ali, it's me..." the stranger stated, her voice having dropped the accent. Even underneath all her concealing clothing, Alison could tell that the woman, whoever she was, was feeling panicked. The smaller woman shook her head and began backing up.

"No..." Alison murmured. "No, it can't be..."

"Ali, I swear to you. It's me," the woman pleased with her as she advanced toward the gun and the shaking Alison.

"Y-You're dead. It's not you. It can't be. You _died_. You... You were _murdered_. One year ago... It's not you. It's not possible..." Alison whispered hysterically, trying to reassure herself of her own sanity. "You're not Beth. You can't be. You're... You're... An imposter. Or _something_. I don't know. But you're not Beth. I know Beth. I _knew_ Beth. I—"

"Ali... Who else could call you that?" the woman asked gently, taking Alison's hand and gently lowering the gun. "Who else could sound like that when they say your name?"

Alison watched the woman slowly reach up and take her glasses off, revealing those loving eyes she knew all too well.

"Who else could look at you like this?"

The suburbanite swallowed and dropped the gun to the floor, but still wasn't sure if she could believe her eyes.

"Ali, it's me... I am Elizabeth Childs," the woman stated. "No one else could love you the way I do—"

"_Love_ me?" Alison retorted sharply as she took a hand and slapped Beth across the face with it. "How _dare_ you say that you _love_ me? You _left_ me, Beth. And you didn't come back. You promised me that everything was going to be alright. But it wasn't. You died—you _lied_. You _lied_ to me and made me go through all that pain and misery... All for what? Was it some kind of test, Beth? Some sick test of my love for you? I loved you and you should've known that! You should've... You should've..."

The suburban woman grew more and more violent as her emotions swallowed her ability to speak and she physically pushed Beth away.

"I know, I know. That was wrong and I'm sorry. That was a really fucked up thing to do. But I had to leave. I found out who was following me. It was a she. A female serial killer," Beth told her as she went to hug her. "She hated herself. So she killed women who looked like her. But we got her, Ali. We got her. I'm safe and you're safe."

"That's just like you," Alison furiously spat as she ripped herself away. "To put your job before me."

"Ali, you don't understand... Just listen to me—"

"No, _you_ listen to me," Alison growled. "What you did was unforg—"

Alison stopped, not really wanting to say 'unforgivable' because truth was that she still loved Beth. She loved her even after she thought she'd died.

"You put your job before my feelings," Alison angrily started again. "There's no denying that."

"But I didn't," Beth gently argued. "You see, I put a promise above all else... Remember the first day we met?"

"I try not to," Alison replied coolly, crossing her arms.

"Oh c'mon..." Beth rolled her eyes before getting to the point. "I said to you—and I quote—I said, 'As long as I'm alive, you'll be safe.' Remember that, Ali?"

Alison pouted and nodded.

"I kept you safe," Beth told her. "I did. I killed myself off, made the psycho think she'd won. But then she started stalking you as I knew she would. You never knew. Never. But I did. And I didn't want her to kill you too."

"_God_, I hate you! I _hate_ you Beth!" Alison screamed as she balled her hands into fists. Beth's jaw dropped and her eyes widened as Alison's words flew from her mouth and stabbed her in the chest. The woman's fiery eyes struck her to the core. "I hate you and I... I—"

"You what?" Beth asked softly, stepping closer to the raging woman.

"I don't know," Alison shook her head in resignation. "I don't know."

Beth looked down before looking back up at the suburbanite and saying, "I've been preparing myself for this moment for so long... But nothing could have prepared me for seeing your face so upset and... so angry and unforgiving. I understand if you never want to talk to me again. I get that. I understand if you never want to even see me again. I guess that's why I really came—"

"Oh, _no_. You are _not_ guilting me into welcoming you back with open arms—"

"—To see you one last time before you said goodbye to me and so I could tell you that I really _am_ sorry, Ali."

"You're _sorry_," Alison scoffed. "Do you have _any_ idea what you put me through? I got called down to the morgue, Beth. The _morgue_. Where I had to _identify_ your body. The body that I once knew so _well_ lie front of me, mangled beyond recognition. Essentially what was left of you. Or so I thought... And then you know what, Beth? Do you want to know what happened after that? I wasn't allowed to bury your body and have a proper send-off for you. Nothing that could make up for the fact that I didn't say goodbye to the last time I saw your face. And then I had to deal with knowing that your killer was out there somewhere, possibly after me or worse... possibly after our—_my_ kids. And then to make things worse, she sent me your things, Beth. One by one. Your shirt. Your pants. Your shoes— each one singular. So go ahead and say you're sorry, Beth. Because that's guaranteed to fix everything, right?"

Beth was speechless.

"Is that it? That was your plan? You were just going to bat your little puppy-dog eyes at me and say you're sorry or that you missed me and thought that that was going to make everything better? What, do you think I'm just going to crumble and fall right back into your arms like some _weak_, _pathetic_ _stray?_ And that I don't care what you do, as long as I get to love you?"

"Ali, you can't possibly believe that—"

"I'm not finished," Alison interrupted abruptly as she held up an index finger at the ex-detective. "I loved you, Beth. I _loved_ you. Do you know what that means? Do you _understand_ what that means? It means I _trusted_ you. I trusted you with all my secrets. I trusted you with all my dreams. I trusted you to stay faithful and loyal to me. I trusted you to come home every day. And I trusted you to tell me things. I trusted you not to hide things from me. But you went and did exactly that. You betrayed my trust and therefore you betrayed _me_. So no, 'I'm sorry,' doesn't cut it."

"Alright," Beth whispered hoarsely as she nodded her head slowly. She turned around reluctantly before making her way over to the familiar door. And just like that, Elizabeth Childs walked right out of Alison Hendrix's home, just as she had before all those other times.

But this time felt different to Beth. It felt heavy and final. So terminal. So lifeless. So...

_Dead_.


End file.
